Tim of the Dead
by MrData
Summary: I've often wondered how Tim from Spaced would have coped with the zombies. After all, that's where the story started! Can Tim and the gang survive? Now finished! Thanks for all the reviews!
1. Chapter 1

fanTim of the Dead.

Chapter One : It lives!

Tim felt awful. He could hardly open his eyes, let alone move anything. What had he been drinking last night? What had he been smoking last night? Come to think about it, he could remember absolutely nothing about the previous night.

He groaned and rolled over, coming face to face with Colin. Colin lifted his head at Tim's movement, licked his nose, licked Tim's nose and then jumped out of bed and headed for the lounge.

Using every ounce of energy he could muster, Tim lifted his head, then slowly sat up. The room was spinning, but he eventually managed to stand, albeit with the help of both hands holding the bed to steady himself. He staggered over to the door of his small bedroom, standing on the small white figure of an Imperial Stormtrooper as he did, at which he let out a quiet curse.

As he opened the door he lifted a hand to his face to shield his eye from the bright sunshine flooding in through the kitchen window. He thanked himself for remembering to at least wear some boxer shorts in bed last night.

Daisy was sitting at the table, staring at her typewriter as usual while playing with a spoon in a cold cup of coffee. The small flat was as messy as it usually was, but the kitchen table was always tidy, as that was Daisy's 'work' area.

"Oh," she said, seeing Tim at the door. "It lives!"

"Wuhh?" mumbled Tim, rubbing his aching head.

He stumbled over to the table and sat down opposite his flatmate. The aroma of the cold coffee filled his nostrils and tried it's hardest to wake him up.

He became awake of a noise like banging, which he was sure wasn't in his head.

The door. There was someone at the door.

"Can you get that?" asked Daisy, "I'm working."

Even though the idea that Daisy was doing anything with the typewriter other than stare at it was hard to grasp, Tim slowly rose and headed for the door.

As he opened the door, he was met by Brian's agitated face.

"Tim!" He cried as soon as the door was open. "Have you seen the terrible, ungodly dead!"

"Wuhh?" said Tim again. "Oh. Hang on."

He walked slowly to a shelving unit near the TV, picked something off the shelf, then made his way in more or less a straight line back to the door.

"Here." He said, pushing a CD into Brian's hand. "By the way, it's not the 'ungodly dead', it's the _Ungrateful Dead_."

Brian's puzzled face stared blankly at him.

"And I want it back by Friday." said Tim, closing the door.

He sat back at the table and rested his head in his hands.

"I'm going to take Colin for a walk." Said Daisy, eager for a break from 'working'.

Tim was on his Playstation when Daisy got back, playing his favourite game, Resident Evil. He was feeling quite pleased with himself as he'd got a tiny bit further than he'd done the last time without losing a life. Daisy walked in just behind Colin, who trotted over to Tim's side where he sat on the floor.

Tim looked up, nodded a greeting to Colin, and turned back to his game. After a second or two, he stopped, then turned his head slowly back to look at Colin. He had a severed hand in his mouth, blood dripping from the wrist onto the carpet.

"Coffee?" asked Daisy.

Tim made no sound, just continued staring at Colin.

"Tim, would you like a coffee? I'm just putting the kettle on."

Again, Tim made no sound.

"Why aren't you talking to me?" Daisy asked. "Is this about the thing that happened last night?"

"What? What thing that happened last night?"

"Well," began Daisy "I don't thing I'll look the same way at salami again, but…"

Tim shook his head. "Never mind that now. How many fingers do you have?" he asked her.

Daisy looked down at her hands. "Ten. Well, eight and two thumbs, if you're asking one of those schoolboy joke questions…"

Daisy turned to look at Tim, and stopped dead.

"Then that's not one of your hands?" asked Tim.

They both stared at Colin, who sat up and looked back at them, tilting his head

to one side in puzzlement.

"Awww." Sighed Tim and Daisy at the same time.

Tim shook his head. No, this wasn't right.

"Where did he get it?" said Tim, poking the hand with a fork, which was now laid on the kitchen table.

Daisy shrugged. "No idea." She replied.

"You didn't see him bite it off anyone outside?" said Tim.

"No. He was just, you know, doing his business under a bush. I never saw him pick it up. What shall we do with it?"

"Well, I think we ought to call the police or something."

Daisy was about to answer when the door was flung open and Mike walked in, dumping a large rucksack on the floor. Tim quickly covered the severed hand with a dishcloth.

"Mike!" he said, smiling. "Good to see you!"

"Tim, I need a favour." Said Mike, handing him a set of keys. "I need you to look after my van for a while. Promise me you'll look after it while I'm gone."

"Yeah, sure mate, I'll take good care of it. Why aren't you taking it with you?

Where are you going?"

"Had a code red recall from the TA. They're sending a car over. Sargent's privileges." He smiled and tapped the stripes on his sleeve. "It can only mean one thing, Tim. I'm going into combat!"

"Combat? That's almost as good as being in the real army! It's all you've ever wanted! Where?"

"Sorry, can't tell you."

"Oh, right. Let me guess, you'd have to kill me if you told me?"

"No, I've really no idea where I'm being sent."

"Oh." Replied Tim.

"Only joking," said Mike, laughing. Then his face straightened. "Of course I'd have to kill you."

He walked over to the window and looked out at his van, wiping a tear from his eye.

"What's wrong Mike?" asked Daisy, putting an arm around his shoulders.

"I don't know, it just feels like I'll never see her again." He turned to Tim.

"You promise you'll look after her, right?"

Tim held up his hands. "She won't get a scratch."

"Not a scratch." Repeated Mike, meaning it as a demand.

"Will you get going?" Tim laughed, hugging his best mate.

Mike picked up his rucksack and headed for the doorway. "By the way, Tim, don't worry about what happened last night. I'm never going to be able to eat Cheddar cheese again, but it's not really a big deal."

"What?" said Tim.

"Sorry Tim. Got to go." Said Mike, shutting the door behind him.

"What was that all about?" asked Daisy.

"I don't know, but I think Mike's departure and this have something in common." He pulled the dishcloth off the table. The hand had gone.

"Colin!" Daisy screamed.


	2. Chapter 2

Tim of the Dead.

Chapter Two. The ungodly dead.

After a while they found Colin, hiding behind the sofa, but there was no sign of the severed hand.

"Surely he couldn't have eaten it all?" asked Tim.

"I doubt it. He had two tins of dog food this morning. He should be full up."

Tim looked at her and sighed. What was going on today?

There was a knock at the door, or rather a bang. "I'll get it." Said Daisy.

Tim went back to his Playstation.

When Dasiy opened the front door, there was a man in a black suit standing on the doormat. His face was very pale. Blood was dripping where his hand had been ripped off.

"No thank you, we don't want to join your religion." Said daisy, shutting the door quickly in his face.

Meanwhile, Tim was deep in another world, shooting zombies and laughing as there bodies exploded. One zombie came closer to him, and he waited for the perfect shot. As he pressed the fire button, the zombie exploded bits of it flying in all directions. As one of the zombie's hands hit the screen, something landed on Tim's shoulder. He jumped and turned his head to see the severed hand an inch from his face.

Daisy, holding the hand by the wrist, burst out laughing and fell backwards onto the floor.

"Daisy!" Tim shouted. "I could have had a heart attack! That was not funny!"

There was another bang on the door, this time louder than the first.

"That's probably the zombie again, asking for his hand back."

They walked slowly to the door and peered round the corner. Through the fake stained glass window of the front door, a shadow could be seen, slowly swaying from on side to the other. Tim and Daisy jumped as the window was smashed, and a pale white hand reached in, trying to find the door handle.

Without thinking, Tim ran to the door to try and stop the figure from getting in. Just as he got there, the pale hand found the handle and the door suddenly swung open. Staggering towards Tim was a very pale man in a dark suit, his left hand missing.

"Arrgh!" cried Tim as the man bore down on him.

"Hold on!" cried Daisy and ran back into there flat, picking up the first thing she could think of. She ran back to Tim and beat the man over the head with a rolling pin.

Tim struggled from underneath the man and stood up.

"A rolling pin?" he said. "Where did that come from? You've never done any baking!"

"Yes I have! I baked you a birthday cake last year!"

"No you didn't! You stole that from a seconds shop! It said 'Happy Birthday Tom'!"

"Well, it's the thought that counts." Shrugged Daisy.

Just at that moment, a bearded head poked itself around the corner.

"What's going on?" asked Brian.

"Nothing." Said Daisy quickly. "This man was attacking Tim."

"It's one of the ungrateful dead." Said Brian quietly, as Tim and Daisy argued about what plan of action they should take next.

Brian looked down at the man. A pool of blood hand formed around the man's head. Curious, Brian bent down and dipped a finger slowly into the blood.

Strange thoughts went through his mind. I've painted death so many times, he thought, but this is the first time I've really seen it. He opened his hand, palm down and placed it flat in the crimson puddle. Standing up, he turned to the wall and pressed his hand against it. Then, using sweeps of his arm, his hand became a blur, painting a picture on the white wall with the blood.

Tim and Daisy stopped trying to decide what to do for a second, and both looked at the smiling Brian, who was standing next to a copy of the Mona Lisa on the plastered wall.

"What do you think?" asked Brian.

Before Tim or Daisy could answer, there was a noise from outside. Looking through the open door, they saw several people slowly moving towards the house.

"They're the ungrateful dead." Said Brian.

"What, zombies?" asked Tim.

"Yep." Said Brian. "Have you not heard the news? What have you been doing this morning?"

"I've been, er, shooting zombies." Tim said quietly.

They quickly moved the body of the man and tried to block the front door with a large dresser from another wall of the hall.

"Ok," said Tim. "This is what we're going to do. Daisy, you go and get Marsha. Brian, you get Twist. I know she's in your flat because we heard you having sex last night." Brian smiled sheepishly. "I'll get dressed and meet you here in 2 minutes."

Tim ran back into the flat and got dressed. He grabbed the walkie-talkie from the bedside. He hoped that Mike kept the other one close to him. As her ran back out of his room, he trod on a small white figure, letting out a quiet curse as he ran. Brian went to get Twist from his basement flat and Daisy ran up the stairs to Marsha, the landlady's flat.

Daisy banged on the door of the top flat. After a few moments, Marsha opened the door, wearing a long nightie and a robe.

"Marsha!" Daisy screamed. "We have to get out of the house!"

Marsha looked at her.

"There's zombies trying to get into the front door!" Daisy screamed.

Marsha kept on looking at her.

Daisy sighed, then had an idea. "We're all going for a drink." She said.

Marsha's eyes widened.

"Grab a weapon and come with me." Daisy told her.

Marsha disappeared into the flat and appeared a moment later carrying a bottle of vodka.

"That's not a weapon!" Daisy said.

Marsha smiled. "It's my own brew. It's lethal."

Brian, meanwhile, was not having a good time in the basement. Twist was having trouble choosing which shoes she would look best in, and was complaining that she'd not had time to put enough make up on.

Brian let out a roar, picked up his favourite easel and smashed it on the floor.

Picking up the legs, he handed one to Twist. "Take this," he told her, "you might need to defend yourself."

Looking puzzled, Twist took the leg and followed him up the stairs to the front hall.

Soon everyone was assembled in the hall. Tim reached for the front door.

"Wait a moment!" said Daisy. "Where's Colin?"

Colin walked in from their flat, with the severed hand in his mouth once more.

"Colin!" Daisy scolded. "Put that down!"

Colin sat down in the doorway and cocked his head to one side.

There was a chorus of "Awww" from everyone.

They were all shaken from the moment by the sound of the front door being broken. Several arms reached around the dresser.

"Quick, the back door!" shouted Tim.

They ran out of the back door and locked it securely behind them.

Thankfully, the garden was empty.


	3. Chapter 3

Tim of the Dead.

Chapter Three : Escape from Meteor Street.

Tim looked around, thinking. They needed to get away from here, but how?

"OK, the house is no longer safe. What do we do?" asked Daisy.

Tim had an idea. "Mike's van!"

"Great!" said Daisy. "Come on!"

She started running for the garden gate but Tim stopped her. "We can't." he said.

"Why? I'm sure Mike wouldn't mind." She replied.

"We can't."

"I could drive it, if you're worried about scratching it."

"No, it's not that."

"Well, what is it then?"

Tim blushed. "I left the keys in our flat." he said quietly.

The others stared at him, and then looked back at the house. There was a thud on the back door. Everyone's gaze rose to the windows of Tim and Daisy's flat on the first floor.

"The back window is slightly open!" cried Daisy. "You could climb up and squeeze through!"

"Me?" said Tim.

"Well, you left the keys in there."

Tim sighed. He tried climbing the wall, but it was no use. The others tried to lift him, but couldn't get him high enough. Looking around the garden, Brian had an idea.

Grabbing hold of the shed at each corner, they lifted and dragged it towards the house and pushed it against the wall by the open window. They all lifted Tim onto the roof, which creaked ominously. Very carefully, Tim edged towards the house and tried the window. It opened easily and his slipped inside, landing softly on his bed.

Jumping onto the floor, he made for the door and stopped to pick up the StormTrooper. "Not this time." He smiled, and popped the figure into his jeans pocket. Quickly he ran to the kitchen area, grabbed the keys from the table and ran back to the window, grabbing his favourite hat on the way.

Squeezing out of the window, he waved the keys to show everyone. A chorus of quiet cheers came back. He slipped off the windowsill and back onto the shed roof just as the back door of the house opened and two pale figures stepped out.

He felt the roof below his feet give way and one wall of the shed fell sideways and flattened the two zombies, producing another chorus of cheers.

Tim landed on his feet and opened the shed door, closing it carefully behind him. As he did, the other walls fell over too. He shrugged.

"Let's go!" he said, running for the gate.

The group crept down the side of the house and stopped to check the front garden was clear. It wasn't. There were two zombies ambling around in circles on the lawn.

"Brian and Twist, you two take the left one." Tim said. "Daisy and I'll take the other."

With a scream, the four ran out into the garden, Daisy waving the rolling pin in big sweeps. It was at this point Tim realised he didn't have anything to hit the zombie with, so he kicked it instead. Daisy soon finished off the creature without too much trouble anyway.

Meanwhile, Brian was pummelling the other with his easel leg. Twist was tapping it with her easel leg, but wasn't doing any damage. The zombie swung it's arm at Twist, spraying her with drops of blood from a gash on it's hand. Twist stopped dead and looked down at the crimson spots on her top.

She let out a blood curdling scream and started beating the zombie with the leg. "Do you know how much this top cost?" she shouted as she took the zombie's head clean off with a swing of the leg. The zombie fell backwards but she kept hitting it's chest with the leg.

"Twist!" shouted Tim, catching hold of the leg. "I think it's dead."

"It's a zombie. It was dead before." said Brian. Everyone stared at him. "Sorry." He added quietly.

Marsha slipped from her hiding place and they all ran across the garden and peered up and down Meteor Street. The road was empty. Tim ran to the van and opened the back door so the others could climb in. Daisy picked Colin up and ran to the passenger side and climbed in the front. Tim slammed the back door and jumped into the driver's seat.

In the back of the van, Marsha moved closer to Brian. "Mmmm, this is cosy." She smiled.

Tim fumbled in his pocket and dug out the walkie-talkie. Switching it on, he tried to contact Mike. All he could hear was faint static.

"Dam!" he cursed. "The batteries are dead."

"What now?" asked Daisy.

"We have to get to Bilbo." Said Tim. "He reads a lot about zombies. He'll know what to do."


	4. Chapter 4

Tim of the Dead.

Chapter Four: Running into old enemies.

They set off down the street in Mike's camouflage van, weaving between stationary cars and cardboard boxes.

As Tim wasn't used to driving the van, he had trouble keeping it in a straight for more than ten feet. Luckily, the roads were very quiet. They got to the end of Meteor street without hitting anything too solid to stop the van dead.

Tim swung the van round the roundabout at the end of the street, heading for the high street. A flickering neon sign caught his eye. The sign used to read "Shop4it", but the middle letters were smashed, so all it read now was

"Sh it". He served hard right, skidded and slid to a halt half on the pavement outside a small supermarket.

"OK." He said to the others. "We need double A batteries and supplies. Is there anything in the back we can use to defend ourselves?"

There came sounds of mad searching from the back. A black sports bag was passed through to the front seats. "Only this." Said a voice.

Tim smiled, recognising the bag. He unzipped it and pulled out Mikes modified paint ball guns. He gave Daisy an insane grin.

"Ok, here's the plan. I'll wait outside and keep watch. You four" - he was interrupted by a quiet bark - "sorry, five. You go and get supplies and batteries."

Pulling on his favourite hat, he jumped out of the van, pistols drawn and ready. After circling the van to make sure the coast was clear, he carefully made his way towards the door of the shop. The lights inside were flickering in time with the large neon sign outside. Pushing the smashed door to one side, he peered inside. There was no sign of movement, so he waved at the others to follow.

As each member of the gang passed him, Tim handed them a basket and shouted "Go!". First Daisy and Colin close on her heels, then Twist, and finally Brian closely followed by Marsha.

Tim stepped outside again to watch over the van. The street seemed very quiet and eerie. In all the time he'd lived here, he'd never seen the street this quiet. Even at closing time for all the nightclubs there were people about, with police keeping an eye on things. Where were all the police? Tim thought to himself.

Marsha coming out of the shop shook him from his thoughts. He looked down to see her basket was full of cigarettes and bottles of cheap vodka.

"You have the chance to loot a shop and you only pinch the cheap bottles?" asked Tim.

"Well, I prefer that to the other stuff. Looks like we might have some company." She nodded down the street and climbed back into the van.

"Come on people, move it!" Tim shouted through the doorway. "Zombies are coming!"

Brian was next out, his basket full of crisps and top shelf magazines. Seeing Tim's face, he mumbled something about it being 'art' and handed Tim a packet of batteries.

"These are C size!" scorned Tim. "We need double A's!"

"Sorry. Only batteries I could find." Shrugged Brian. He turned to climb into Mike's van but saw Marsha's face smiling at him, so he decided to keep watch with Tim instead.

Tim glanced down the street again. The zombies weren't moving fast, but they were heading towards them.

Twist was next out of the shop, carrying a fully laden basket of make up.

"What's all this?" asked Tim.

"Do you realise how much this stuff costs?" frowned Twist, completely failing to understand why Tim could be cross with her.

Daisy came out a moment later, her basket full of chocolate bars.

"Well, at least we can eat something!" said Tim. "Let's go!"

They were almost all back into the van when Daisy realised she'd left something behind, or rather, someone.

"Colin!" she screamed.

A second later, Colin appeared at the doorway, a large bag of dog biscuits in his mouth. He tilted his head to one side, causing the gang to smile. Tim started the engine and Colin jumped into Daisy's open door.

Putting the van into gear, Tim pulled off the pavement and back onto the road. They had only travelled about ten metres when the engine gave a splutter and stopped.

"Dam, it's stalled!" shouted Tim. A quick look in his rear view mirror told him that the zombies were closing in on them. He turned the key but there was nothing. The engine wasn't even turning over. He looked frantically over the dashboard, trying to find the fuel gauge. The needle was steady at half a tank. They had fuel. He turned the key again. Still nothing.

There was a bang on the side of the van. Tim looked out of the window and saw a middle aged woman staggering down the length of the van, banging on the side as she moved. He wound his window down, lifted one of Mikes paint ball guns and shot the woman in the forehead at point-blank range. She fell backwards onto the pavement.

"Tim!" shouted Daisy.

"What?"

"You can't just shoot people like that!" she protested.

"What? I don't think paint ball guns are lethal, anyway." He jumped as the woman's face was inches from door. "See?"

The zombie raised her arms and reached towards Tim. Tim tried to wind the window up as fast as he could, trapping the woman's fingers in the top of the window. He shrieked as the fingers snapped off and landed in his lap.

"What can we do?" asked Daisy.

"Pray?" suggested Tim, who had never really been a religious man.

"Try the engine once more." Said Daisy.

Tim did and was relieved to hear the battered old transit roar into life. It would have been cooler to not have the van in gear at the time, which made it lurch onto the road, throwing its occupants all over.

Regaining control of the vehicle, Tim sped off along the high street, trying to avoid hitting any of the people shuffling about. He recognised someone as they passed a group around a telephone box.

"Hey, I think that was my old head master! Didn't think he was still alive!"

"He's not." Daisy said flatly.

Tim frowned at her for a second, then understood. "Oh, right."

"Look!" shouted Daisy. There's that woman who tried to steal Colin. Colin growled from her lap. Daisy reached over and pulled on the steering wheel, causing the van to hit the woman and knock her flying into a shop window.

"Daisy!" shouted Tim. "You can't use this situation as an excuse to get revenge on people!"

"Sorry."

Tim concentrated on driving, but then spotted another face he knew in the crowds of zombies. A face he had seen in so many nightmares and thrown so many darts at. A face that had stolen his girlfriend. A face named Duane.

"Tim!" Daisy cried as she realised what he was doing. The van mounted the curb and headed for Duane, who seemed to be oblivious to the two tons of Ford Transit heading towards him at fifty mile per hour. They hit him square on, which shattered the windscreen and sprayed Tim, Daisy and Colin with Duane's blood.

"Eeeww!" cried Daisy, trying to wipe the blood off her face.

"Yeah!" shouted Tim in Triumph. "Got him!"

His smile soon turned to dread as he saw one pale hand reach up front the front of the van. The hand was followed by another, then a head, covered with blood.

Tim screamed. Daisy screamed. Colin growled.

Duane's face smiled, then disappeared with a loud bang, along with the rest of his head. The van filled with smoke. Tim and Daisy looked at each other, then turned to see the barrel of a shotgun poking out from the back of the van. Their eyes followed the barrel and found a hand wearing pink nail varnish holding it.

Twist smiled. "We found something else to defend ourselves with."

Tim turned forwards just in time to see a bus shelter in their path.


	5. Chapter 5

Tim of the Dead.

Chapter Five : Death of a Hero.

Tim's life flashed before his eyes. Zombies were everywhere, and he could see himself shooting them with a large shotgun, laughing hysterically. Then he saw himself sitting on his sofa, playing on his Playstation. Marsha was sat next to him wearing a very low cut top. She leant towards him and whispered "Stop shooting and put that down Tim". Obeying, he turned to face her, their faces just inches apart. They moved closer and Marsha opened her mouth…

"Tim! Stop shooting and put that down!" Marsha shouted.

Tim opened his eyes. There was red paint dripping from the van roof where the paintballs had hit. His right hand ached where he'd been holding the paint ball pistol too tight. The magazine was empty. He blushed almost as red and the ceiling. Looking around, he saw Daisy was dazed, but Colin was just sat next to her, panting gently. If it were possible for a dog to smile, Colin seemed to be laughing at him.

Tim twisted to look in the back of the van. "Is anyone hurt?" he asked.

"No." replied Marsha. "Luckily Brian saved us all from injury."

"How?"

"He threw himself in front of us, cushioning our impact."

"No I didn't!" moaned Brian. "You lot jumped on me!"

"You know what they say Brian," smiled Tim, "you have to suffer for your art!"

"That's not funny."

"Got any more ammunition for that shotgun?" Tim asked.

"Sorry, Tim, that was the only cartridge." Replied Twist.

"That's what I thought. Mike must have taken the rest with him."

Tim checked out of the window. There were zombies all over the high street, but none of them seemed to be taking any notice of the van. He tried to get his bearings from the shops that still had signs above the doors. He recognised a second hand shop which was close to the Fantasy Bazaar, where he and Bilbo worked. There, on the opposite side of the road was the shop. On the opposite side of the road filled with zombies.

Reading his mind, Daisy asked "How are we going to get across?"

Tim checked the ammunition in Mike's paint ball guns. "We'll wait for a gap in the crowd and make a run for it. Bilbo's in there, I can feel it."

As if answering some silent code, Bilbo's face appeared in the window of the door. He spotted Tim in the van and waved. Tim tried his best sign language to tell Bilbo they were going to run across the street. Bilbo pulled a puzzled face. "What?" he mouthed. Tim tried again, miming very slowly.

Still puzzled, Bilbo opened the door and shouted "What?" at the top of his voice.

Several zombies turned to face him.

"We're coming over!" shouted Tim. The zombies turned to face the van.

"Got any food?" shouted Bilbo. The zombies turned their ashen faces back to the shop.

"Yeah, we got supplies!" shouted Daisy, showing him her basket of crisps and chocolate.

"Come on then!" shouted Bilbo.

"We're going to run for the shop!" cried Tim into the back of the van. All the doors of the van flew open and they all run for the other side of the street, dodging the flailing arms of zombies.

Colin got there first and ran past Bilbo. Then Marsha, who was surprising quick on her feet when it came to escaping death, and Brian helped Twist to fight off a couple of old men as they made their way over, swinging their shopping baskets at them.

Tim watched Daisy in front of him fall in slow motion. He skidded to a halt in the middle of the road and helped her to stand again. They ran for the Fantasy Bazaar with zombies closing in from both sides. Tim lifted the pistols and fired at anything that moved, accidentally catching Daisy on the side of the head with a paint pellet.

"Ouch!" screamed Daisy, stopping and turning to Tim. "That bloody hurt!"

"Sorry!" apologised Tim. They stared at each other for a second, then remembered where they were and started running again. Ten feet from the door, Tim felt a hand catch his shoulder as he watched Daisy disappear into the doorway, Bilbo beckoning him inside. He twisted, shaking the hand away and fired both pistols at the woman behind him. Another hand tried to get hold of his head, but only succeeded in pulling his hat off, which fell to the floor just outside the door.

Pushing the hands away, he backed towards the door and squeezed past Bilbo, who pushed on the door as hard as he could. Just before the door was fully closed, Tim's hand shot out and grabbed his favourite hat from the pavement, and the door slammed shut.

"Quick! Barricade the door! Do you have a back door?" cried Daisy.

"No." replied Bilbo. "Shops with backdoors cost more to rent."

They all rested on the floor, panting. Marsha opened a bottle of vodka and took a large swig, offering it to everyone, who politely refused.

"Bilbo! Good to see you're alright!" Tim said, giving him a hug. Bilbo returned the hug, but then they both realised everyone else was watching them and stepped back again.

"What are you doing here on a Sunday?" asked Daisy. "I thought you never opened on Sundays."

"I don't open the shop. Just go through the stock." He quickly covered up an open comic on the counter. Daisy noticed the title : 'Xena, warrior princess'.

"Stock. Right."

"What's the plan then Tim?" Bilbo said, quickly changing the subject.

"We need double A batteries for the walkie-talkie so we can contact Mike to rescue us. Do you have any?"

Bilbo stared at him, holding his hands out. "Tim, this is a comic shop. There's nothing here that takes double A batteries!"

There was a small beep from behind the counter.

"What was that?" Tim asked.

"What was what?" replied Bilbo. "Must have been one of the zombies at the door, or maybe a rat. Yeah, that's right, it was a rat. Make all kinds of strange noises, rat do."

There was another beep, followed by a few chirps and whistles.

Bilbo backed towards the counter, trying to block Tim's view. On the shelf behind the glass counter, between two towering stacks of comics, was a small white cylindrical robot with a silver domed head.

"No, Tim. Not R2!" pleaded Bilbo.

"Sorry Bilbo. Sacrifices have to be made."

"But he's so small and helpless!" cried Bilbo.

"Don't worry Bilbo. He'll have a good send off, and he's dying for a good cause."

Bilbo wiped a tear from his cheek as Tim gently lifted the R2 D2 model from the shelf. The others gathered round Bilbo, patting his shoulder and offering words of sympathy.

Tim placed the chirping robot on the counter and eased off the battery cover from the back of its head. He reached in with a finger and pulled at one of the batteries. The chirping went silent and the little red light in the silver dome faded, and then went out completely.

Tim pulled the small radio out of his back pocket and pushed the batteries inside. Flicking it on, he called Mike.

"Tim!" said Mike's muffled voice. "Thought you might have had it! Just rolled past Meteor Street. The house has been flattened."

Overhearing the conversation, Marsha's ears pricked up. "What?" She cried.

"Oh, hi Marsha." Said Mike. "Yeah, sorry about the house. The tank seemed to have a mind of it's own for a moment there. Sorry. Where are you?"

"We're at the Fantasy Bazaar on the high street."

Tim turned at the sound of the window smashing. Several arms were reaching into the shop, trying to catch hold of anything they could.

"Situation looks grim!"

"Stay put and stay alive. I'm coming to get you!"

Brian ran to the back of the shop, grabbed something and ran back to the window, waving two klingon swords over his head.

"No!" cried Bilbo, just as Brian was about hit one of the zombies over the head with the weapons. "You can't use them!"

"Why?" shouted Brian over his shoulder. His blow connected with a pale head and the swords disintegrated into a thousand pieces.

"Because they're made of plastic." Said Bilbo, sighing.

"Well, what can we use?"

"I have just the thing."

Bilbo went behind the counter and through the doors painted to look like Doctor Who's Tardis. He returned a second later carrying something long and thin, covered with a dirty cloth. He laid it on the counter and carefully uncovered it.

"Behold, the actual sword used in the first Highlander film."

"Ah, the original!" Sighed Bilbo and Tim together.

Brian lifted it to gauge its weight and smiled. "Nice."

Swinging it round his head, he ran for the window, slicing and chopping and stabbing.

"Is that really the actual sword they used in the film?" Asked Tim.

"Well, that's what the insurance people think." Smiled Bilbo, winking at him.

As Brian was busy hacking at the arms at the window, the others became aware of a low rumbling noise, which seemed to get louder and louder with every minute that passed. There were other noises accompanying the rumbling, such as gunfire, laughing and the occasional explosion.

Tim ran to the door and peered up and down the high street. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. Was he seeing what he thought he was seeing? He looked again. There, in the distance but rumbling ever closer, was a tank. It was covered with soldiers, who were firing at anything that staggered in front of their sight. In the commander's seat at the top of the turret, sat a man with a round face and a moustache. Mike!

"Hey everyone! Mike's here!" Cried Tim.

Everyone jumped and cheered. Marsha hugged Brian, who shrugged off her bear hug to cuddle Twist. Bilbo hugged the little R2 D2. Daisy hugged Tim, but then they both realised what they were doing and let go. Then they realised Marsha was watching them and hugged again, jumping for joy.

The tank rolled to a stop outside Bilbo's shop. A dozen zombies were still trying to get through the broken window. Mike, standing up on top of the tank waved everyone to stand back.

Bilbo led the way into the back room through the Tardis and closed the door behind him. There was a deafening sound of gun fire, bullets flying everywhere. After the sound had died down (and after their ears had stopped ringing), Tim popped his head through the doors to find himself staring down the barrel of Mike's M16 rifle. A red dot appeared on Tim's forehead.

"Are you alright Tim?" Mike asked cautiously.

"I am now mate. Thanks for rescuing us!" Tim took a step forward.

"Have you, or any of your party, been bitten by a zombie?"

"What? No, we've not been bitten."

"Can we do another strip search Sergeant?" said a voice behind Mike.

"I think we might have to Wilkins." Replied Mike over his shoulder.

Tim felt his knees buckle. "What?" he said weakly.

"I'm game!" said Marsha, popping her head through the blue doors.

"Nah," said Mike, looking at Marsha. "I don't think we need to do that."

Mike smiled at Tim and gave him a quick hug, as manly as he could.

"Looks like some more enemy approaching, Sergeant!" Shouted one of the soldiers from the tank.

"Right then. All aboard!" said Mike, waving them out of the shop.

As they got outside, Mike helped them climb up onto the tank.

"Sorry about your van, Mike." Said Tim.

"Don't worry about it. I've Got some new wheels now." Mike answered, patting the side of the tank. He handed Tim a shotgun. Tim smiled.

Once they were all on the tank it sped up the high street with a jolt.

Tim looked behind them but couldn't se any more zombies.

"I though he said the enemy was approaching?" Tim asked Mike.

"They are." Replied Mike, pointing.

Tim squinted and saw what he was pointing at. There was another tank, right at the far end of the high street.

Mike smiled at him. "Had to borrow the wheels." He shrugged.

Tim laughed. "So, what's the plan?"

"Well," said Mike. "Most of England has been infected with zombies, so we've got to get out."

Tim sighed. "You don't mean…?"

Mike smiled back at him. "That's right Tim. Disneyland Paris here we come!"

The end.


End file.
